


the holly and the ivy

by vertigo



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Found Family, IT'S TRUE LOVE, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Canon, hamster banana dynamics, jean deserves happiness, new age family, when a chaotic aries loves a true virgo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertigo/pseuds/vertigo
Summary: "My family can be a little chaotic. If you feel like stepping out just tell me. On the back porch there's a hammock, mom calls it the serenity place. If you go there no one will bother you." Jeremy is wringing his hands while Jean tries not to panic by focusing on the soft music coming from a random radio station.
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80
Collections: #AFTGWinterJam 2020





	the holly and the ivy

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! The last day of [AFTGWinterJam](https://twitter.com/aftgwinterjam)! And we're closing with a bang of found family traditions of Jerejean! I'd like to thank the mods for this amazing event! I hope everyone had a merry chrysler!
> 
> Infinite thanks, love and devotion to my beta [RainbowObsidian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowObsidian/) to all the dedication this fic. All the remaining mistakes are mine.

Jean would be lying if he didn't say he was nervous about Christmas this year. He's used to staying in his and Jeremy's apartment, sharing gifts with Laila and Alvarez, and attending the Christmas banquet. But everything changed this year; for the first time in the five seasons he and Jeremy have been a couple, the Seattle Hawks decided to give them a break. 

Jeremy's mom called the day after the news broke, absolutely demanding that Jeremy and his boyfriend finally join the family for Christmas. Jeremy's mom doesn't sound like someone he wants to disappoint, so Jean reluctantly agrees and braces himself for a week in the Florida heat. Jeremy doesn't look worried, exactly - why would he be? It's his family after all - but he is definitely way more jittery than his normal self. He spends his mornings frantically Christmas shopping for what looks like an army, and the nights cuddled in Jean's arms, kissing his neck and mumbling sweet reassurances. 

Which are not reassuring in the least.

Jean is tense for the duration of their flight, and Jeremy, bless his soul, spends his whole time finding the cutest animations available on the in-flight TV. He knows he's found the perfect boyfriend when Jeremy doesn't shy from crying at the end of yet another Disney favorite. "Sorry," Jeremy sniffles, wiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his jacket, "you know I love Tangled."

"I do," Jean says softly, discretely squeezing Jeremy's hand. "You don't have to apologize." Jeremy nods in response, playing the next movie in their queue. "But your mom might be mad at me if you show up with your eyes swollen. Let's watch some old Bugs Bunny cartoons for the next... two and a half hours." Jean sighs deeply. He can feel exhaustion creeping in, the brutal timezone difference between Seattle and Tampa catching up with him already, and Jean is not looking forward to their week away.

The rest of the flight goes without a hitch, and Jean finds himself relaxing every time Jeremy giggles at Bugs Bunny’s stupid antics. They arrive at Tampa shortly after three pm Seattle time, feeling the exhaustion for sitting too long in a cramped space and the stress from the last days piling up on their bodies. Both athletes stop in the airport lounge to stretch, the throng of holiday goers hide them from most prying eyes, and though a snapshot or two may have been taken of them stretching and picking up their rental car, Jean couldn't care less. His career is secure, he is the third ranked player in professional exy, just behind Day and Josten (more often than not they are jostling for first place, simultaneously upsetting each other, and making Ichirou very proud and rich), and being seen with Jeremy has become a common occurrence.

"So," Jeremy starts when they're both settled comfortably in their rental car.

"So," Jean hums back, thanking the gods for the AC, but already feeling like his legs will complain from the small size of their ride. 

"My family can be a little chaotic. If you feel like stepping out just tell me. On the back porch there's a hammock, mom calls it the serenity place. If you go there no one will bother you." Jeremy is wringing his hands while Jean tries not to panic by focusing on the soft music coming from a random radio station. "Also, we have to pick grandma and her sister up tomorrow, and they will probably want to get to know you better."

Jean nods, tightening his hands on the wheel. He tries to calculate how many people will be in the house: Jeremy has two older siblings and a younger one. Lilly, Mark and Joanne. Lilly has a husband called Arnold and three kids (Amanda, Sue and a teenager named Arnold Jr.); Mark has a wife (Claudia) and twins (Frank and Phillip); Joanne is still single and not ready to settle down. Jeremy's parents are Christine and Edward Knox. There have been talks that his aunt will be there with the rest of her family, which Jeremy hasn't talked about. The grandma is Ruth and her sister is Celeste, they live in what Jeremy called once _old people paradise_. Jeremy's family also have two big dogs called Peace and Serenity that like to chase anything that moves.

In sum: too many people. The Knoxes could start their own collegiate exy team and still have enough subs to outshine the rest. "Do we need to buy anything?" is Jean's answer. The further they get from the airport, the more suburban the houses look like. Kids run free and dogs bark alongside white fences and American flags waving by the porches.

"Probably a sleeping bag. Mom said we can stay in my old bedroom tonight, but I think we'll have to give up our bed rights because nana Celeste likes my bedroom." Jeremy is humming, visibly tense with the prospect of spending Christmas with his family after five years. The last time he came to Florida, Jean sent him away with a kiss on the forehead and made himself comfortable on Laila and Alvarez’ lounge. 

Laila is like Jean, she'd do anything to avoid staying away from Alvarez's equally big family, but this isn't their lucky year.

Jean is chewing his bottom lip when Jeremy gestures for him to pull over and it’s a miracle Jean can find a parking spot at all. "We're here," Jeremy announces and Jean takes a moment to catalog the house in which Jeremy Knox spent his formative years.

It’s an affluent suburb, and the house is flanked by white fences overrun with plants. It’s painted a light cerulean blue, with dark wood accents on the porch. The lawn is perfect, the grass is kept hydrated with embedded sprinklers that keep on wetting the green blades. There are unlit Christmas lights strung around the porch and the windows. A Santa in surfer clothes sits right by a gigantic amethyst monolith, which is decorated with tiny reindeers and gnomes and he holds an alligator with antlers on a leash. The Flamingos strewn all around wear tiny santa hats, and one of them even has a beard.

There are a couple of kids playing around the side of the house; Jean can hear them complain about the mosquitoes and how _Philip is not playing fair!_ The whole place is bathed in a golden and orange hue from the sunset and Jean can’t take his eyes off the kids as they run back and forth. 

"Jean?" Jeremy asks, placing one hand on his thigh and squeezing it lightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just -" Jean sighs, rubbing a hand across his face and doing the slow breathing exercises his therapist taught him back at USC. "- overwhelmed already. You're my first boyfriend and I’ve never had to meet someone's family before."

"That's not true, you met Laila's family."

Jean snorts. "Yeah, her mother, father and their lovely corn crops." Jeremy laughs along, leaning in across the console to kiss Jean softly. He allows himself to melt against Jeremy's lips under the blessings of the AC. 

"You'll do just fine." Jeremy smiles brightly, nuzzling his neck. "They'll love you." Jean feels way more confident when Jeremy is kissing his neck, but he wishes they could spend the rest of their holiday shuttered inside their car. "Come on, I think I can smell mom's conch fritters!"

Before Jean can answer, Jeremy is out of the car, rounding it so he can pick up the impressive amount of baggage they managed to bring. One suitcase full of clothes, the other three bags are filled with gifts for Jeremy's family. Jean takes a breath and gets out of the car, the oppressive heat of Florida making his shirt stick and his armpits sweat. "Jeremy, are you sure this is a -"

"UNCLE JEREMY!" The unholy scream that only a child can produce pierces the air and Jean recoils as an army of tiny blond terrors surround Jeremy, jumping and screaming like labrador puppies meeting their favorite human. Jeremy drops the bags to hug them all at once and begins to chat at the same speed as the impressive little Knox army.

_UNCLE JEREMY YOU'RE SO BIG! UNCLE JEREMY DID YOU LOSE? LOOK UNCLE JEREMY I'M A STRIKER! UNCLE JEREMY TELL PHILIP HE CAN'T RUN WITH THE BALL! UNCLE JEREMY LOOK, LOOK!!_

How Jeremy is able to answer all the requests is beyond Jean and he stands like a shadow, beside their luggage as the kids scream. On the porch, a teenager looks up from the colored fringe of his hair and gives Jean a two finger salute before he starts barking orders for the kids to let go of Jeremy.

Like a pack of tiny terrors they calm down one by one, and eventually the front door slams open and someone who looks vaguely Minyard-sized appears. "You better have not knocked over my ameth- My goddess! My son!" Jean watches as Mrs. Knox cleans her hands on her apron and begins running across the lawn, upsetting some of the flamingos in her attempt to reach Jeremy as soon as possible. The resemblance is uncanny: Christine has the same messy blond hair (even though hers is streaked with white), the same long fingers, bony elbows and multitude of freckles as Jeremy. "By the goddess Jeremy, you're here." She squeezes her son, resting her face on Jeremy's chest and keeping him close, as if she’s afraid he might disappear the moment she stops squeezing the air out of his lungs. "My goddess you're so solid, what are they feeding you up north my baby?"

Jean watches with some amusement as Jeremy's mom gropes his bicep, then his waist, then turns his face this and that way. "Athlete food, Mom. We have a team of nutritionists, chefs, doctors… We also train a lot. I've been on this special-"

"Oh my goddesses, Jeremy! Is that…?" She shuts Jeremy up with a squeeze to his bicep and focuses her attention like a laser beam on Jean. Jean wishes the ground would swallow him whole, melting him into the earth's core and where he would never be seen again. 

Jeremy nods, a brilliant smile twisting the constellation of freckles on his face. "That's Jean Moreau mom, my boyfriend." 

Jean finds himself squeezed by Mrs. Knox before he can answer, and absurdly being subjected to the same groping as her son. "It’s so nice to meet you, you're so tall Jean!" She says it more like _John_ and Jeremy cringes in sympathy. "So thick too! My boys! Welcome to Tampa! How was the trip? Why didn't you call your father to pick you up Jeremy? Have you ever tried gator, Jean? Are you hot? Are you tired? I made some key lime-"

"Christine!” someone interrupts from inside. “The conches are getting cold!"

"Damn you Sarah! Fucking put them in the oven! Oh shit, sorry Jean." Christine hooks one arm through Jean's, then her other through Jeremy's and pulls them both inside the house. Around them the tiny troop of kids keep demanding Jeremy's attention. "We don't fucking swear in this family," she snorts and Jean can definitely see the resemblance in her bad jokes with Jeremy's awful ones he keeps cracking during their training sessions.

The house is, for lack of a better word, _absolutely crammed_ with people. In the living room the men of the family greet them with raised beer cans; apparently they arrived just in time for football. Jean likes it, impersonal, physically distanced greetings are his thing.

The women of the family, however, are on him like pigeons on crumbs. Jeremy has to step in, letting go of his mother to wrap Jean's arms around his shoulders and act like a human barrier between their curiosity and Jean. "Guys, calm down, we just got here, it's way past our afternoon bedtime…"

The moody teenager chose that moment to step into the kitchen and grab a can of Mountain Dew, his green eyes showing nothing but sympathy for Jean. "Uncle Jeremy,” he says, cracking open the can, “stay here and enjoy your time being chewed out, I'm gonna take Mr. Moreau and your bags upstairs." Moreau sounds a lot like _Murrow_ , but Arnold Jr. is already his favorite Knox, after Jeremy of course.

"Oh, bless you junior," Christine says, simultaneously pulling Jeremy by the wrist shoving a conch in his mouth. "Help Jean get settled in Jeremy's old room, okay? And then bring him down here; I'm making more conch. It's Florida's treasure and I think Jean will like it."

Junior nods, but he definitely looks like he will shield Jean at all costs. "Sorry about this family, it's more of a mental hospital than a house. I can see now why you took so long to come." Jean tries not to let him carry the heavy bags upstairs, but Junior just shrugs, leading Jean through the maze of gnomes, crystals and cute family photos until they reach Jeremy's room. "Here we are."

"Thank you, Junior," Jean says, his head finally having space for a thought.

"Call me Arn, please. Junior makes you sound like all the loons downstairs." Arn smiles, placing the bags in a corner of the room. "Jeremy told you about the serenity place?" He nods as an answer, and Arn nods back, shoving his fists in his jeans pockets. "Cool, then if you need me, find me there. I spent the whole afternoon looking after the pests." Arn is halfway through the door when he stops to turn on the fan and stare at Jean. "Also you might like to keep your door closed; Peace and Serenity love sleeping on Jeremy's bed." 

Jean flops on the bed, toeing off his shoes and starfishing in _Jeremy's childhood room_. The need to look closer at the exy posters hanging on the walls is overthrown by the need to decompress. In this room, Jeremy's family chatter is just a pleasant buzz. It still smells like Jeremy (sunshine and boyish) and it's a weirdly comforting spot in the house. After a few minutes he leans up on his elbows to take a look around the room: there are medals and trophies hanging in one corner, a collection of pictures tacked to a corkboard and a collection of exy posters plastered against the white walls. He can see a picture of his sixteen year old self, shuttered and imposing, holding a racquet, with little hearts floating near his head. By his side is Riko, but his face is obscured with a block of black that Jeremy presumably drew over. And there is Kevin, with a badly drawn crown and a bunch of exclamation points next to his form.

He snorts, and shifts his gaze to the model planes hanging from the ceiling, swaying in the breeze from the fan. So this is what it’s like to have a normal childhood. Jean only has memories of his nook back in the Nest, his few books tucked into a corner where Riko couldn't find them. If he tries hard enough he can remember his room in Marseille, but it's a painful memory to poke, so he decides to just bask in Jeremy's place instead. 

Jean crosses his hands behind his head and relaxes. Downstairs two dogs are barking, someone is laughing, kids are running free. It’s nice. A bit overwhelming, but nice. He's almost dozing to the hypnotic sway of the planes when the door opens. Jean's body instinctively goes taut as he looks at the door and relaxes when he watches Jeremy coming in and falling by his side. "Sorry about Mom, she can be a little intense at first."

"You were also a little intense when I was sporting less than seventy stitches back at USC," Jean reminds him, laying on his side to watch Jeremy's relaxed profile. "Anyway, you haven't seen your mom since Thanksgiving last year, I suppose mothers act like that." Jeremy smiles at the ceiling before he turns to nuzzle his nose against Jean's. 

"Sorry about me too, then. I snagged the best backliner in the league and he was _hot_. It was a bit hard to contain my excitement at that." Jeremy is giggling, his hand running lazy circles over Jean's jean clad thigh. "I still get the same feeling when I wake up every morning, knowing I'm sleeping beside the best backliner in the league." 

"But now you can contain yourself."

Jeremy hums, pressing their lips together. "I try to. I channel all my energy into preparing an amazing breakfast to show you how much I appreciate that the best backliner in the league is also the best boyfriend I've ever had. And he's still hot." 

Jean chuckles against Jeremy's lips. He never thought of Jeremy's morning energy as how he painted now, and it makes his heart swell. "You know what's also hot Jeremy?"

"Hmm, please say _my boyfriend in booty shorts_."

"That. And Tampa." 

Jeremy laughs, poking at their jeans. "Missing Seattle cold already?" 

"Hmmm,” Jean grumbles.

“Florida doesn't offer optimal cuddle weather," Jeremy says, rubbing his nose against Jean's neck like a lazy cat, "and we're still in Seattle clothing, which doesn’t help. Maybe we should take a shower, put on something a little more comfortable… and then head back downstairs. Mom promised fried shrimp and okra." 

Jean hums, running his fingers through Jeremy's greasy honey-blond hair. In truth he doesn't want to leave this bed and go back to the noise and the overflowing energy of Jeremy's mom and her relatives. But they both smell like stale airplane air and their thick shirts don't favor the humid weather. "Fine,” Jean concedes. “You packed, you find our stuff. I'm very comfortable here." 

Jeremy laughs, kissing Jean's sweaty forehead before he rolls out of bed and digs around in their bags. "Since you don't own any shorts, I bought you a few. It usually gets cool later, but don't expect a white Christmas."

"Jeremy, we're south. Your parents' Santa is wearing speedos and a pineapple shirt," Jean grumbles, lifting his hand when Jeremy says _catch_. He is currently holding a bundle with grey shorts and a coral shirt he's never seen before, the tags are still attached to it. "Underwear?"

"Better to go commando," Jeremy shrugs, but still throws a pair of black boxers near Jean's hand. "Your crotch sweats a lot in this weather, so it’s best if you air it. And before you ask, don't worry, those shorts won't give my family a glimpse of your anaconda."

Jean snorts, moving from bed to help Jeremy dig out their toiletry bag. "It doesn’t bother me, thought, I think your mother would be happy, given the way she was groping me." Jeremy raises an eyebrow in response, ridiculously well done with an elegant slit that Jean and him adopted in their USC days. Jean mirrors the gesture, waiting for Jeremy to open his mouth in response. 

"Fine, knowing my mom as I do, I think part of her would be happy to get a glimpse, but she would also do it in a _my son deserves the best_ spirit. She and dad have been happily married ever since they joined a cult in 1979."

Now both of Jean's eyebrows are raised as Jeremy twirls his wrist, the shirt and the shorts pressed between his fingers making a _whooshing_ sound. "It was not a cult in the Evermore sense of the word. It was called The Aquarius Society; more like a New Age gathering to enlighten oneself, reach inside and expand your mind… have you noticed the big amethyst on the lawn?"

"Yeah… I thought it was better not to ask."

"And all the crystals around the house? Gnomes, fairies and tye dye?" Jeremy snorts, and then points to a colorful dreamcatcher hanging on his windowframe. "And the dreamcatcher… Classic."

"Are they still in the cult?"

Jeremy shakes his head, finally picking up the toiletry bag from under their rumpled shirts. "The cult disbanded during the 90s, but Mom and Cad are still happily involved in spiritual matters.” He pauses and says as an afterthought: “Mom will probably ask you about your natal chart." 

"I feel like you're talking Greek to me," Jean says, following Jeremy out of the bedroom and into the closest bathroom. "Should I be worried?"

"Nah," Jeremy shrugs, picking up two clean towels from the cabinet under the sink,undresses and steps into the shower. "Mom will try to talk about non existent Virgo-Aries compatibility, though." Jean has no idea what Jeremy is talking about, so he shrugs and gets under the blissfully cold spray of their shower. "Which is a load of bullcrap,” Jeremy continues, adjusting the taps. “We get along fine in every aspect of our lives." He opens his arms to Jean. "I love you, you love me, our work compatibility is amazing, our sex is mind-blowing."

Jean hums, reaching out for their shampoo and lathering Jeremy's rebellious oily strands. "Except you keep leaving things all over the house and I have to clean up after you. You hate doing the dishes..."

"That's why we have a dishwasher," Jeremy mumbles.

"It doesn't do the job right. Especially with pans."

"Keep talking like that and Mom will call you an exemplary Virgo. What else you hate about me, babe?" 

Jean laughs, rinsing the shampoo and covering Jeremy's hair in the perfect amount of hair conditioner. "You like to trim your toenails in bed. You snore and mumble in your sleep," he continues, washing Jeremy's body with the same reverence as usual. "You walk around the house in white socks and they're hell to wash."

"So Virgo. You should look into heated floors for our next house if you hate my dirty socks that much," Jeremy mumbles, lazily reaching to wash Jean's hair as he cleans between his toes. "Or buy me black socks."

"I did, and then you said you don't like black because it reminds you of _that_ awful place." Jeremy is relaxed, cleaning up Jean's hair adding the tiny dollop of hair conditioner as Jean has instructed. "I'll look into heated floors for your sweet, delicate Florida feet." There's nothing delicate about Jeremy's feet. Like most athletes, they’re hardly a picture of beauty, with ingrown nails, crisscrossed blue veins and thick calluses. 

"Thank you my love. My delicate Florida feet will be forever grateful… Why are you taking so long down there Jean?"

Jean hums, taking a good look at Jeremy's toe before he gets back to his full height. "Your toenail looks inflamed again; better schedule the podiatrist when we get back home." Jeremy hums back at him, much more preoccupied with washing his boyfriend's body. "I'm serious Jeremy, remember last time?"

"Jean. I love you. I really do. But I'm naked, with my gorgeous boyfriend, gently running my hands over his cock so it will smell like lemongrass and lavender. The last thing I want to think about is that time I cried while having an ingrown toenail removed,while Laila looked on like it was the best thing in the world." Jean snorts, holding Jeremy close as they rinse off. He's been around long enough to interpret Jeremy's rare subtlety, so like the good boyfriend he is, he kisses Jeremy's neck, following the tendons with his mouth,hands roaming over Jeremy's back and then firmly grabs his ass. "Hmmm yes that's what I'm talking about." Jeremy's hand is finally stroking his cock when someone knocks on the door and Jean feels his boyfriend's fingers close so hard against him that he squeals. 

"Jeremy, Mom says stop using all the hot water to have sex!"

"Fuck, Joanne we're taking a cold shower!" Then under his breath, "Sorry Jean, are you okay?" 

Jean nods, dropping his hands from Jeremy's ass when twin giggles come from beyond the door. "So you don't deny you're having sex?"

"Ugh, shut up Lilly," Jeremy groans and the best Jean can do, other than to blush profusely, is to push his boyfriend out of the shower and wrap him in a towel burrito, then kiss his cheeks. 

"Hurry up Jeremy, Mom’s almost done with the shrimp. She made Cuban sandwiches for her baby champion and his beau." 

Jean watches as Jeremy rests his face against his chest, laughing quietly. They stay wrapped in their towels until the footsteps fade away. Well that's how it's going to be, Jean laments: too many people in the house, too little space to release all the pent up horniness inside Jeremy. 

"Sorry," Jeremy says again, stepping away and dressing himself. "My family is terrible, but you can’t say I didn;t warn you in advance."

Jean shrugs, getting into the comfortable clothes Jeremy bought him and stepping closer to brush his honeyed hair. "You warned me, but I didn't think it was this bad."

"You're the second boyfriend I've ever brought home, and you're the very elusive one. They've been asking about you for years. Ever since I called them from my USC bedroom and screamed _I have the hottest boyfriend in the world_." Jeremy is almost purring under his hands, his body going lax against Jean's chest. "Face it, they know we've been in a relationship for six years, and you have managed to avoid coming here time and time again. Even when we were at USC you managed to sneak away."

"You know Laila needed company."

"Keep telling yourself that." Jean watches as Jeremy turns around, standing on his tiptoes to brush Jean's hair back. "You and Laila are masters at evading our families and I'm sure that if I blink these holidays, you'll get the car and run away to meet her somewhere and find your way to Ohio."

"You know I'm not in the habit of lying to you," Jean bows, nosing Jeremy's neck and enjoying the scent of lavender, lemongrass and sunshine that clings to him. "And yes, I thought about calling her and running away to her family's house and hiding in the middle of all the corn." Jeremy giggles, his strong arms curling around Jean's neck and bringing him closer. 

"Sarah would go and find you. She would set fire to the…"

"JEREMY RIVER KNOX! THE FOOD IS GETTING COLD!" They snort at Mrs. Knox's voice and pull apart with a tiny kiss. 

"Go meet your mom, I'm going to sort our clothes and put them in the washbag…." Jeremy cocks his head to the side and Jean has to sigh. "You forgot to bring the bag, didn’t you?… Go, I'll fix it." Jean watches as Jeremy leaves the bathroom to go downstairs, screaming at his curious sisters while he goes to Jeremy's bedroom.

There are two big dogs curled in bed and it looks like something _exploded_ in their luggage. The dogs look at Jean, then at the bag, then flop with their bellies up. "Peace and Serenity." Jean mumbles, but he supposes he can be grateful for any excuse to stay away from Jeremy's family a bit longer. It's not that he hates them, Jean muses as he folds every shirt carefully, pressing out the creases with their pocket steamer, it's more the feeling of being an introvert in a house full of extroverts. 

And not knowing his in-laws.

He finally has all the clothes arranged back in the bag, sorted by color, owner and purpose when he looks at the wristwatch Jeremy gave him on his last birthday. It's been only ten minutes. 

But Jeremy's father is already at the door, looking at him with far too gentle eyes. "Jean," it still sounds like _John_ and a reprimand. He's not used to silent footsteps and being watched while he seeks comfort in his rituals, so Jean feels himself grow stiff as Mr. Knox stares at him. "May I come in?"

"...Sure, Mr. Knox this is your house."

"But right now, this is your safe space," Mr. Knox says softly, sitting on the edge of Jeremy's bed and patting it. The dogs lift their lazy heads to stare at them before flopping back on bed. "Can we talk? I want to make sure you're comfortable in this house."

Jean moves, stiff and uncomfortable, to sit by his father in-law's side. Mr. Knox has the same golden skin as Jeremy, his blond hair in thick curls; there's a jade green japamala hanging from his neck and he smells like patchouli and old books. Coupled with his wrinkled hands and soft stare, Jean feels oddly relaxed. "Sure, uh, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Knox."

"Likewise, but I feel like we started with the wrong foot. Let's start with our introductions, hm? Hello Jean, I'm Edward Knox. Please call me Edward or Ed." 

"Hi," Jean says softly, trying to smile at Jeremy's father. "I'm Jean Moreau, call me Jean."

Edward smiles brightly, it's not the maniac smile of his wife, but he can see the likeness between Jeremy's soft and tired smile and the gentle curl of his father’s lips. "I'm sure Jeremy has already told you his mother can be a little intense at times. Actually our whole family, save from Junior, can be very intense. Can I hold your hand?"

Jean nods and there's nothing but peace and gentleness in the way Edward's soft hand envelops his. "Thank you, Jean. Anyways, I just want to tell you we're all very eager to get to know you better. Jeremy has only good things to say about you and, since you've been making our boy very happy for the last six years, we've been curious." He's dragging his thumb all over the back of Jean's hand, and it looks like he's tracing symbols over the faded scars, it’s bizarrely relaxing and Jean blinks in confusion. "But I'd also understand if you're an introvert or just shy. We'll do our best to respect your space and make sure you feel welcome in this family. Because you are."

"I am?"

Edward smiles brightly, squeezing Jean's hand softly. "You've always been. Here," Jean watches as his father in law picks a bracelet from his pocket, slipping it on his wrist. The amber and purple stones contrast nicely with Jean's pale skin and they make a good composition with the silver watch Jeremy gifted him. "Amber and amethyst, don't know if you believe it, but it helps you relax."

"Thank you Mr… Edward. It means a lot. I just guess I'm not used to big families."

"Yours is small?"

Jean sighs, looking at the beads on his wrist. His family wasn't as big as Jeremy's, but he doesn't remember much either. His second family was… hell. "It's just me, Jeremy, Laila and Sarah." He settles for a vague answer, which makes Edward stop rubbing the more prominent scars on his fingers. 

"It is a good family." Edward answers, linking their fingers together. "I'd like to be part of it, if you allow."

Jean's at a loss for words, his throat constricting to repress whatever the confused emotion is that his brain can't decipher. So he nods, squeezing Edward's hand in his. "It would be a pleasure."

"Come, Christine is desperate for you to try her conch fritters. They're the best ever - if I can say so myself." Edward leads him around the house and Jean appreciates the calm rolling in waves from Jeremy's father. "Also she wants to do your whole natal chart to test yours and Jeremy's compatibility."

Jean snorts when they get outside. There's a long table covered in food and drinks, with most of the seats taken by blonde Knoxes. The lights overhead make it look more like a festive luau than a simple family dinner. Jeremy's mother beams when she sees him and she opens her mouth, then promptly shuts it after taking one quick look at her husband. "Hello Jean, welcome," she says softly and, while Jeremy's mom has a nice smile, all he can focus is Jeremy's bright green eyes staring at him, the edges crinkling with so much happiness.

"Sorry for the delay," Jean says, taking his seat right by Jeremy's side and squeezing his hand. "Jeremy packed." That phrase makes the whole family roll their eyes. 

"Oh my goddess… Okay I'm gonna be a bit nosy now…"

"Mom," Jeremy warns, thumbing the beads on Jean wrists.

"Oh shush, River. You knew this was coming." Christine hands Jeremy's younger sister an iPad while staring at Jean. "I'm super curious about your natal chart. Spill the beans, Jean!"

Jean lifts one eyebrow, then looks at Jeremy, who answers without pause. "August twenty seven, nineteen eighty four. Marseille. Six fifteen pm." He suspects his boyfriend has been staring for far too long at his birth certificate in order to give such a quick and complete answer without stuttering. Jeremy's sister shakes her head, handing her mother the iPad back and Mrs. Knox stares at it the same way their coach studies a dangerous play. "He's a Virgo mom."

"He's a Virgo through and through. Rising Capricorn." She frowns and Jean tries not to feel like he did something wrong by being born. "How you handle my Aries baby is beyond my cosmic knowledge."

"Uh...Thanks?" Jean tries while serving a healthy amount of salad into his and Jeremy's plates. 

"What I mean is that my son is insufferable sometimes. He loves a mess, always has" Christine continues, signaling for everyone to fill their plates as Jean is doing. "And that you, as a Virgo should never let him pack your bags." 

Jean snorts, looking at his boyfriend as he tops their plates with deep fried foods. "With all due respect, your son is the best thing that ever happened to me, wet towels on the bed and dirty socks aside." 

Everyone fawns for a moment at that, then the conversation takes off in different directions. Jeremy's family tries to engage him in their multiple subjects- which music does he like (jazz), what his favorite dish (bahn mi from the vietnamese restaurant a few blocks down from their apartment), what are his plans for retirement (buy a dog), does Jeremy still leaves his smelly shoes everywhere (yes), but it's Arn and his colored fringe that really traps his attention when he opens his mouth:

"How do you do the no look pass?" he asks, twirling his fork around. Half of the family groans, the other half chastise him. "Shut up!” Arn protests, blushing furiously but not backing down.“You can't invite Jean Moreau over and not let me ask him questions!" 

"Junior started playing exy this year; he's a backliner." Arn’s mother says with an apologetic look.She stares hard at her son and chastises him for talking about work-related matters at the dinner table. Jeremy grabs Jean’s thigh, squeezing it softly as an apology.

"It's no problem, Lilly." He turns to look at Arn and notices the deep blush that makes his freckles stand out, so much like his cousin’s. "It's one of the Ravens' precision drills." Jeremy is almost bruising his thigh, he’s squeezing so hard, so he places his knife on the table in order to hold Jeremy's hand in his. "In the old training regimen you had to master three levels: precision, agility and strength. I don't know how it's done today, that was a Moriyama thing."

Arn waves his hand around, dismissing Jean's explanation and putting his cellphone on the table. His mother gives another disapproving grunt, but, like the good teenager he is, Arn continues browsing YouTube until he finds the play in question, making his mom complain loudly. "Nah, but Johnson, Abebe, Lindgren… They're all from Tetsuji’s era and none of them can do this." 

Jean watches himself in the navy blue and fluorescent green of the Seattle Hawks uniform pass the ball Jeremy's way without looking. "See? Not even Kevin Day can do that! It's amazing!"

He was ready to tell Arn that even though he’d trained with Johnson, Abebe and Lindgren, even though they were Ravens, none of them had had to master the level of perfection that he had. They wouldn't have suffered broken bones if they’d missed a play. But the words die in his mouth when Arn keeps on talking, pulling up a collection of no-look passes, spanning from rare plays in his college years to several plays with Jeremy and the other strikers and dealers in his team. "Uh," Jean looks at his boyfriend, who's chewing a shrimp and looking with interest to the screen of Arn's phone. "I guess I always try to have an awareness of where the other players are… do you have a pen?"

Arn's father sends a pen his way and he picks up from mid air, making Jeremy's family whoop all around the table. "Wow, now I get what my brother sees in you," he hears Joanne saying, but pays her no mind, drawing the x and o’s on the napkin in front of him.

"So, Jeremy is here and I'm intercepting a striker. I know Jeremy won't move much and he favors his right because he's a right handed striker. So I have to make the play reflect that. I also know he has either a backliner or a dealer or both near him, so I need to account for that." He draws the other players, rapping the screen of Arn's phone with the edge of the pen. "That's where one of the precision drills come in handy. Ravens' first precision drill is to knock a cone with a rebounding ball, so I use the plexiglass to help me reach Jeremy faster. "

Jeremy hums by his side, opening his mouth while chewing a leaf of lettuce. "Plus, I've been playing with Jean for six years. We know how to work with each other."

Arn nods, staring at the play drawn on his napkin as he ruminates over what Jean has just said. "You're way better playing with Uncle Jeremy than with the Ravens," he says, picking up the pen and folding the napkin so there's a blank space. "But everyone knows Uncle Jere is a right handed striker and any backliner on pro knows his reach. So how do you account for that?"

Jean lifts his eyebrows, his own lips curling in a smile. "You're completely right, I have to think of the other backliner, and account for Jeremy's eventual move so I rebound the ball in a way that will fall within three feet of Jeremy. And Jeremy is good at calculating those plays. That way we can avoid the limitation of Jeremy's reach."

"Wow. I mean it's a tricky play and you make it sound easy… almost like Josten and Minyard with their _Go-Fetch_ play."

"Go...fetch?" Jean scrunches his nose as Arn pulls up another video, and this time the focus is on Andrew's face as he says _go fetch_ at Neil then throws the ball across the court for Neil to chase it.

"Yeah see? Josten kind of knows where the ball will be just by quickly looking at Minyard's position!"

Jean watches the play over and over again, drawing it on the napkin until he gets it right. "Your uncle and Josten have one similarity: unlike Day, they're intuitive players. Day, Minyard and I are very technical players, so it is a good balance between instinct and technique."

He gets lost explaining plays to Arn, and Jeremy pitches in between talking with his parents and eating their food. Jean doesn't realize he's full, relaxed and enjoying a key lime pie until Jeremy's mom starts to bombard him with questions about how dinner was. Christine glows when he asks for seconds of pie, and tells him proudly that those limes came from the tree she planted when she married Edward.

He's just a little preoccupied. She made him eat _alligator meat_.

Little by little the table empties of people and food, until it's only him and Jeremy sharing a cup of coffee under the warmth of the heat lamps. "So, how traumatizing was the first day with the Knoxes?" Jeremy asks, rubbing his scarred knee.

"Your nephew is my favorite. Can't wait to take him to Court."

"My parents?"

"Your mom is a bit too much, your father is a saint."

Jeremy hums, tracing small patterns over his scars. "Dad is a therapist, he knows how to work his way around people." Oh, that's why he was so good with him. Jean muses a bit on how much he let on so Edward could work his way. "Come, I'm getting tired and there's a Braves versus Knights game starting in five minutes and I really wanna cheer for Thea." 

Jean gets up, turning off the heat lamps and following Jeremy back inside the house. As they pass the living room he sees a myriad of Knoxes in several sleepy states, except for Arn who is barely up but still looking at the screen. “Go Knights,” he mutters under his breath and Jeremy gives him the thumbs up. Jeremy's room is devoid of dogs, still smelling boyish and looking a bit less chaotic now Jean has gone through their mess.

"We gotta take the gifts downstairs tomorrow," he says, watching as Jeremy gets naked and then puts on his favorite booty shorts. 

"I gotta take them down, your job tomorrow is to entertain the matriarchs of the Knox family." Jeremy flops in bed as Jean changes into a comfortable shirt and a pair of sleep shorts.

"What should I expect from them? Same as your mom?" He worms his way into bed, laying Jeremy's head on his chest as his boyfriend pulls the game up on their iPad. "Mayhem? Chaos?"

"Grandma Ruth is nothing like Mom," Jeremy snorts. "She's a lot like you; very calm, enjoys talking about her life. Nana Celeste is… the lesbian aunt of the family. When her husband died she dropped everything, became a painter and a giant poodle breeder. She lived with Nana Diane until she passed away." Jean hums, ignoring the quiet hum of the game announcers in favor of listening to the fondness in Jeremy's voice. "They went to all my high school games and they were adamant that I should do as I wanted, instead of following the hippie way of my parents."

"I'm sure your mother was disappointed when you majored in Business."

"Thoroughly. She said I became part of the system when I started investing in the stock market," Jeremy shrugs. "But Nana Celeste and Nana Diane told her to shut up and let me make my own choices. And that if I ever found myself short of a scholarship I should go to them."

Jean runs his fingers through Jeremy's hair, wishing he’d had someone to pull him out from the Nest and his stupid physical therapy major. "They sound amazing." 

"Nana Diane was amazing, she died the year I got into USC. She called me the day before she died and said she was proud of me and knew I'd do great in anything I set my mind to." Jeremy sighs deeply, looking up at Jean from under his lashes. "She was a brilliant mathematician and worked for NASA. I learned everything I know about math from her."

"I wish I’d met her."

Jeremy hums and says "Me too, but you'll spend the day with the nanas, which I think it's great too. Plus we’ll be away on the worst day of Yule. Mom and aunt Sarah will bicker the whole day, there will be tons of dishes to be washed by dad and uncle Rob, the kids will be pestering everyone about when is Santa coming…"

"Sounds chaotic." Jean mumbles, watching Thea and Neil work as a terrifying unity. "I'd rather take my chances with the nanas. They won't reach me if I decide to book it to Ohio." Jeremy giggles and as he kisses Jean’s neck gently, his hands begin to roam under Jean's shirt. 

"Oh no, trust me, it would be way worse. Nana Ruth is a sharpshooter, she would totally hit you with whatever she has within reach." Jean hums, imagining some old lady who looks like Jeremy hitting him with her purse. "Nana Celeste might let you go and start a family war by saying I'm too much of an Aries to be loved, which will make my mother go crazy." Jeremy is progressing slowly in kissing his neck, mouthing the skin until he's breathing right by Jean's ear, his teeth closing softly around the lobe and pulling on it, sending shivers up Jean’s spine.

"What are you doing, Jeremy?"

Jeremy hums, running his hands over Jean's chest. "I have my boyfriend in bed with me and his hand is on my ass." Jean looks down and surely, he can see his own fingers resting on Jeremy's ass. “Everyone else in the house is asleep and I could really go for some slow lovemaking because in the next couple of days we'll be downstairs with the rest of Knoxes and I am not an exhibitionist." 

"I beg to differ, you do have exhibitionist tendencies. How many times did we have sex in the garage of our apartment?" Jeremy groans as an answer, throwing his leg over Jean's hip until he can sit on his lap.

"I have no idea," Jeremy hums, moving his hips slowly and dragging his half hard cock against Jean's.

"Ten times. That first one we rented when we got to Seattle? Everytime we won." Jean answers for him, allowing his hands to roam over the expanse of Jeremy's chest. "And then we had sex on the airplane on the way to the world cup, in the stadium back at USC…"

"Fucking Virgo, fine, I might be a _bit_ of an exhibitionist." Jeremy is pushing his chest into Jean's hands, his own fingers resting on top of his thighs. "But you have a…ah...hmm" Jean smiles, loving the way Jeremy loses his train of thoughts when he is thumbing his nipples. "Jean," it's half moan, half complaint as Jean pinches the hardened buds softly. 

"Yes?"

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

"Thought you were going for a real slow lovemaking," Jean chuckles as Jeremy is curling his hands on the headboard, his fingers sliding and making a subdued noise against the wood. Unlike Jeremy's barely restrained moans.

"Your fetish is being right," Jeremy proclaims, his hips finally finding a rhythm against Jean's. "That's what I was trying to say."

Jean hums, sitting up to kiss Jeremy's freckled chest, his lips finding one nipple and closing around it. He pulls the nub with his teeth, then soothes the sensation with his tongue. "No, I just like stating the facts," he says with a trail of careless kisses across the constellation of freckles. 

"No, you like being-" Jeremy curls his fingers in Jean's hair, directing him where to go. "Fuck, there." He breathes harder when Jean's hands squeeze his ass, one of his middle fingers pushing the fabric between his cheeks as he presses against his hole. "You like being right."

"Hmmm, maybe?" Jean smiles against Jeremy's chest, his hands helping him find a rhythm to grind their still clothed cocks. "Or maybe I just like knowing what my boyfriend likes."

Jeremy groans, his hips stuttering when their cocks meet. "Stop trying to…" he stops talking again when Jean sneaks his fingers under the leg of the booty shorts to rub the pad of his middle finger against Jeremy's hole. "Wait, I'm getting the lube." Jeremy moves, stretching in his arms to reach the bedside drawer and rummages through it. Jean’s teeth close around Jeremy's neck while he searches. "Fuck… here, use this."

Jean's fingers close around the almost empty tube of KY and he knows his eyebrow rose in an incredulous expression. "Jere…"

"What, you think I come here and _do not_ daydream about you ravaging me in my childhood bedroom like the horny boyfriend I am?" Jeremy proclaims, shoving a hand between them to curl his fingers in Jean's shirt, pulling it up. "This is like… top kink for me. My loving Jean, in my childhood bedroom and we're about to have the slow makeout I've been needing and…"

"Jeremy this lube expired three months ago." 

"Don't care, use it," Jeremy grunts,palming Jean through his soft sleep shorts.

"Are you out of your mind Jeremy? This can give you an allergic reaction and make your asshole swell! Or even worse you can get sick from bacteria!" Jeremy is groaning, leaning his forehead on Jean's shoulder and shoving his hand under the elastic band of Jean's shorts to grab his cock and stroke it slowly. Jean will not be distracted. " _Jeremy_."

"It will be fine!"

"Yeah, explain that to the tabloids when they talk about Jeremy Knox's inflamed asshole hospital visit."

He watches as Jeremy throws his head back, an unhappy grunt leaving his lips. Jean knows he's about to go on a lengthy rant when the grunting stops suddenly and Jeremy's head shoots up, his eyes wide as if he’s just made a discovery. "Oh wait, I have a solution. When I come back I want you shirtless."

Jeremy jumps from his lap and runs towards their luggage as Jean chuckles, removing his shirt and folding it to place carefully on the bedside table. He's not opposed to the view Jeremy is presenting him when he's bent over their luggage and wriggling his butt. Of course Jean knows it will be a mess by the time Jeremy is done searching for whatever it is that he wants, but he can't find it in himself to be mad at him.

"Aha! I knew I brought it!" He triumphantly lifts up a small container of vaseline lip balm that Jean absolutely _abhors_ and Jeremy says it's the perfect cure for his dry lips. Jean thinks it just makes his mouth tacky and smells a bit too much like fake creme brulee. "See? And it doesn't expire in three years."

He opens his mouth, then closes it when Jeremy sits on his lap again, placing the foul container of vaseline by their side.

"Jere…"

"It's either that, expired KY or blue balls until we go back to Seattle, Jean." Jeremy smirks, thrusting his hips in a way that makes Jean bite his own lips to contain a moan. "I'm not making a-" he squints, looking at the time on Jean's wrist and running his fingers over the beads, "-twelve past eleven run to the pharmacy just to buy our fancy KY brand."

"Fine," Jean finally sighs, defeated by Jeremy's blinding smile and the grind of his hips. "You have wet wipes to take care of the mess later?"

Jeremy rolls his eyes (and hips). "Oh my god, you Virgo, yes I have them in our toiletry bag. Now can you kiss me and make me come? It's been like… almost two days since we had sex and I'm craving it."

Jean smartly shuts up, kissing Jeremy and pushing down the elastic band of his shorts until they're secure under Jeremy's ass and he can finally grab it like he means business. Jeremy's hands are fumbling with Jean's shorts and he lifts his hips so he can pull them halfway down and let his boyfriend finish the job. "Up.You should have taken your shorts off when you were bringing that-"

"No badmouthing the creme brulee savior," Jeremy interrupts, standing up in bed (and almost falling) to remove his shorts and throw it in the general vicinity of their luggage. When Jeremy is back in his lap, Jean has to hold back a moan. His boyfriend was right about cravings and it was only Jean's apprehension with meeting Jeremy's parents that made him forget how much he missed physical contact with him.

Now it feels like all the pent up frustration and anxiety are bleeding out as Jeremy kisses him like the world might end if they don't taste each other's mouths. He runs his fingers over the gentle curve of Jeremy's hips to his strong back muscles, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind when his hand gets away from Jeremy's body to open up the small vaseline container and the room immediately smells like someone dropped a sugar bomb over it.

He knows his tongue must have stuttered mid-kiss, because Jeremy is pulling his hair, biting his mouth with a laugh "No badmouthing, Jean." He breathes against his lips, tiny moans falling down from Jeremy's lips at every grind of their cocks.

"I'm not."

"I can see you badmouthing with your eyebr-" the words die in Jeremy's mouth, replaced by a long moan when Jean's lubed finger pads rub against his hole. "That's a low blow."

"There are no blows happening right now," Jean says, and before Jeremy can answer he presses one finger in. "Just slow lovemaking."

Jeremy snorts, shaking his head. "You are a menace, Jean Moreau." Jean usually loves it when Jeremy says his full name, but this time the little shit has said _John Murrow_ and, when the time comes, Jean will find the right comeback. Right now he's too preoccupied with mouthing Jeremy's neck and moving his finger slowly inside him. There are little moans dripping from his boyfriend's mouth directly on the skin he kisses and the tiny stutters of his hips are sending shivers down his spine.

"Another one?" he asks when Jeremy starts to move with more vigour against the single digit inside him.

"Yeah." Jean presses a second lubed finger inside Jeremy slowly and carefully, enjoying the way his mouth falls open when he's all the way in. "Fuck, I love how you do that," Jeremy says, his breath coming in short huffs as the sweat starts to gather on his brow. Jean spreads his fingers, doing his best to stretch the muscles without hurting him.

"Too slow?" he asks, just to be sure, and Jeremy shakes his head, reaching out for the lube and coating his fingers in it.

"Good slow… Here's how I want it to go…" Jeremy murmurs, rubbing his lubed fingers against their cocks before he takes a hold of them and starts stroking them in the same gentle pace Jean is using. "We're going to have this amazing slow prep moment," he twists his wrist, pulling their foreskins down to rub the head of their cocks together. Jean has to bite his lips to avoid a moan from coming out freely. "Then I'm going to ride you, like I like to. We'll clean up, just the way _you_ like to and then, because my family at least knows boundaries, we'll sleep naked. Okay with you?"

Jean nods, finally pressing his fingers against Jeremy's prostate and making him stop moving. "Fine, it's a sound plan," he says, watching Jeremy's lips fall open as he pushes the pad of his fingers against the sensitive nerves. 

Jeremy looks ethereal. His golden skin glistening with perspiration even in the low light provided by the exy game still playing on their iPad, the rapid change of lights making a play of shadows on Jeremy's freckles and on his own scars. He presses another finger in, not finding much resistance and truly enjoying the way he can give Jeremy such eye rolling pleasure.

He traces the muscles of Jeremy's chest with his mouth, his other hand too busy holding on to Jeremy's free fingers. It's almost always like that: hands entwined, breathless kisses and whispers exchanged. Right now Jeremy's lips are moving, a mantra of _so good so good,_ falling out between the moans. Jean looks down to where their cocks are grinding together, his with a glistening bead of precum and Jeremy's drooling come as Jean milks his prostate. "'Mmm good." Jeremy mumbles, letting go of their cocks and tapping Jean's wrist with his slippery fingers. "Think I can handle you right now." 

"We can come back to this anytime, you know that, right?" Jean asks, tracing a path of kisses from Jeremy's nipple to the dip of his clavicle. Jeremy nods back at him, coating his fingers in more lube and paying special attention to Jean's cock, his thumb digging slightly into the pulsing vein. 

"I know, Jean…" Jeremy taps his wrist again and Jean pulls out his fingers, keeping his lubed hand holding on to Jeremy's ass. "I'll tell you if we need to stop, okay?"

"Yeah, trust you Jeremy," Jean mumbles, kissing Jeremy's chest as he lifts up his hips and lines up with Jean's cock. He sinks slowly while Jean looks for any sign of discomfort in his face-- there's a short moment where the head of his cock breaches Jeremy's hole and his boyfriend grimaces, but it's gone in a flash when he keeps on sinking, the frown melting into pure pleasure. "Fuck," he breathes when Jeremy sits up on his lap.

"Fuck," Jeremy echoes, breathing hard, chasing Jean's lips for a bit of comfort, but still there’s a moment when Jean check’s Jeremy’s face. "It's not a bad _fuck_ it's a _holy shit, yes_ fuck," his boyfriend says with a smile, and Jean uses his clean hand to trace the outlines of Jeremy's jaw. 

"Hm, holy shit yes," Jean laughs while Jeremy kisses his knuckles. He can feel him clenching and relaxing around his cock, his thighs trembling slightly as he finally takes a deep breath and moves.

The bed gives a tiny squeak.

Jeremy can't contain his moan.

Jean sinks his fingers against the supple flesh of Jeremy's ass as he starts to bite the junction of Jeremy's neck and shoulder. 

As Jeremy bounces on his lap, the moans escalate and the squeaking of the bed is obnoxiously loud, to the point where Jean's paranoia kicks in and he has to tap Jeremy's thigh twice, their own _stop_ sign. "Everything okay Jean?" Jeremy asks, breathless, his skin glistening with sweat.

"This is not going to work, your bed is too loud, you are too loud, your parents will hear us."

"Okay, breathe in." Jeremy instructs, ignoring the cock inside him to frame Jean's face with his calloused hands and press their foreheads together. Jean follows Jeremy's breath, a little out of sync, shallow like it always is when they're having sex. "Good. Talk to me."

"You and your bed are too loud," he repeats, running his hands over Jeremy's side. 

"How do we fix this?" Jean knows his boyfriend could work around it himself, but he also knows what Jeremy is doing- giving him the power in a situation that might be the catalyst to a panic attack. Just for that, Jean pulls him down to a slow kiss, trying to show how much he loves those tiny gestures. 

"Okay," he taps Jeremy's thigh twice. "Up." They both groan at the loss when Jeremy moves to stand up by the bed. The damn thing groans when Jean gets up too, and there's a part of Jeremy's childhood dream he knows he will hate, the damn squeaky bed. "Hm, how about like this?" Jean moves Jeremy around, planting one of his feet on the floor and placing one of his knees in bed, making his ass stick out. Jean wraps one arm around Jeremy's trim waist to keep their bodies close.

Jeremy groans happily, wriggling his ass against Jean's cock and reaching out to hold on to the headboard. "Kinky. I like it." Jean laughs at him, guiding his cock slowly back inside his boyfriend. At that, Jeremy moans loudly, and it's a visceral reaction to cover his mouth, but Jeremy ends up mouthing his fingers, moaning lowly around them.

"Sorry," Jean says, tightening the arm around Jeremy's waist, but Jeremy groans, moving his tongue to press against his fingerprints. "You're enjoying it?"

"Hmhm. Like to have something to suck." The answer comes muffled, broken by moans. "Let's try it like this." Jean gives an experimental thrust and it feels amazing, the bed creaks just a little while Jeremy's moans are effectively dampened by his fingers. Jean feels confident that no one else will hear them, so he starts thrusting earnestly, his lips closing around Jeremy's shoulder to muffle his own moans.

The only sound that can be heard is the contact of their skin and their out of sync breathing. For Jean's ears only there's a litany of moans, silent things crawling from his boyfriend's mouth and reverberating on his fingers. He feels his cock being squeezed by Jeremy with each thrust, Jeremy's scent (lemongrass, lavender, sweat and sunshine) is filling his lungs, his tongue playing with Jean’s fingers.

 _Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy_ , his whole world is resumed in a person, in the clench around his cock, the fingers curling tight on his hair-- Jeremy is asking for more and he's unable not to comply, not to reach out and close his lubed fingers around Jeremy's cock and stroke it in time with his thrusts. Jean isn't worried about his own pleasure, he's mapping all of his boyfriend's tender spots: the soft juncture between his neck and shoulder that already holds a pinkish bruise because Jean has been biting the same spot ever since they got in this position; his sensitive prostate, made easier to abuse in this position with each thrust as Jeremy simply melts against him; the delicate head of his cock, that Jean keeps touching, pulling the foreskin away and thumbing the slit gently, the precome gathered there spreading with each stroke; his sweet mouth, closed around three of his fingers while Jeremy fights the moans. 

"Jean…" His name sounds like a prayer falling from Jeremy's lips, accompanied by muffled moans and eye rolls. "Keep going…" Jeremy says breathlessly, not knowing where to move his hips. "Please I'm…"

"I'm here Jere." Jean says softly, his breath almost failing him when he thrusts harder, faster; curls his fingers around Jeremy's cock and strokes him until he comes with a subdued moan, his teeth clenching around Jean's fingers. "I'm here…" He slows down, jerking Jeremy until he's sensitive and his own hand is nothing but a mess of come and lube. Jean kisses his shoulder, helps Jeremy come down from the delirious high with soft whispers and gentle kisses to his sweaty skin. 

"Inside me," Jeremy grunts, tugging Jean's hair twice. "Need you to come inside me." Jean's answer is a breathless moan as he thrusts back inside Jeremy, and this time he is the one who can't contain his moans, so Jeremy turns around and kisses him breathless until he comes with a sigh. "Fuck yes…" Jeremy says breathlessly against Jean's lips. And they stay like that for a while, riding the waves until their mingled breaths doesn't sound so erratic.

Jean pulls away slowly and Jeremy makes his dissatisfaction known with a grunt as he turns around and falls in bed, his breath still a bit out of sync. "Wipes. M' not sleeping like this." He mumbles, ambling for the pack of wet wipes that rest on their formerly well arranged luggage. Jean cleans his fingers and cock the best he can, throwing the leftover wipes in a tiny trashcan by Jeremy's bed and flops besides his boyfriend. Jeremy has an arm thrown over his eyes and looks well on his way to dreamland. "Gonna clean you, okay?" 

Jeremy answers with a groan, spreading his legs and allowing Jean to clean him like the good boyfriend he is. "Hm, life makes so much sense right now," Jeremy says once he has his brain faculties back, closing the tiny jar of vaseline and placing it in the bedside drawer.

"Hm?" Jean throws the last of the wet wipes in the trashcan and pulls the covers over their hips to give them some sense of modesty in case someone walks into their room in the morning.

"You're such a Virgo, with Virgo this and Virgo that," Jeremy mumbles, nuzzling Jean's chest and curling his arms around his waist. 

"I'll start calling you River if you don't stop."

"Hmmm not River. At least I'm not like… Tiger Lilly." Jeremy groans, hiding his face on Jean's chest. "Fine, I'll stop with theVirgo jokes, tell me who won?"

"Braves."

"Good, send Thea a message later." Jean agrees to it, then stops talking until Jeremy's breath evens out and he starts snoring softly. It’s only then he allows himself to sleep. It's a pleasant night of dreams and cute noises from Jeremy, he wakes up maybe once or twice when the house comes to life but he couldn't care less, their bodies are used to another timezone, pushing them to sleep way past ten am.

Jeremy wakes up with a grunt, pulling the covers over his head and complaining about the brightness and his mom putting Enya on repeat. Jean laughs, kissing his temple softly. The house already smells like cinnamon and spices and the kids are screaming in the lawn, poor Arn is probably on kids duty, judging by his dissatisfied shouts. "Jere, I think we’re running late. Want to get up and take a shower with me?" Jeremy grunts again in response, getting dressed in his booty shorts and swaying by the bed.

Jean takes care in finding their toiletry bag and new clothes, then shepherds Jeremy into the shower to take care of him. He's still half asleep when they get dressed and go downstairs to _absolute chaos_ in the kitchen. Christine is barking orders, bickering with her sister. Joanne is looking at them with a smug smile and Edward is elbow deep into a turkey. 

"Good morning my ray of sunshine!" Like the tornado she is, Christine turns on her heels to hug Jeremy.. "Did you sleep well? Do you want Mom to fix you something?"

"Coffee, two sugars for me, one spoon of brown sugar for Jean," Jeremy says, slipping from his mother's arms to serve two slices of pie on the same plate, and grabbing himself and Jean a fork. "Thanks."

"Of course he slept well Mom, didn't you hear _the sounds_? Jeremy even has a hickey!" Jean has the decency to blush, but he suspects Jeremy is way too used to his family, barely batting an eyelid as he distributes the coffee mugs between Jean and himself.

He watches as Jeremy's father nods, the image of him, and his arm deep in a turkey is slightly disturbing. "There's nothing prettier than the physical manifestation of the union of two souls, Joanne," Edward chastises her gently, still rummaging inside the turkey. "Blessed be the souls that find each other."

"Blessed be," Jeremy echoes, curling under Jean's arms. "Dad, can I borrow your car to run a few errands? Jean is taking the rental to pick up the nanas."

"Sure son, can you pick a few things on your way back? We need more raisins for mulled wine." Edward finally pulls his hand away from the insides of the turkey, looking satisfied with what he finds, then looks fondly at his son. "He's still not a morning person, huh?"

Jean snorts, finishing his slice of lime key pie and curling his arms around Jeremy's waist as he finally starts to wake up. "He was better at it back at USC, but when we joined the Hawks, we started working out later, so he's a bit sluggish."

"Oh, teenage Jeremy was _hell_ to wake up," Christine says, waving a knife dangerously close to her own face. "It would always take us half an hour to get him out of bed."

"Still does. Laila and Alvarez joked that his brain in the morning is like a dial up connection," Jean says gently, kissing Jeremy's wet hair. "Takes some time to work."

"Oh if that's not the perfect analogy," Christine says, then mumbles a dial up tone under her breath. Jeremy groans into his cup of coffee. "Oh, here he is, so nice of you to join us. Lilly made a list of things we'll need from the shop. When you come back, we need you to decorate the gingerbread people." 

Jeremy turns around, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Jean. “Nana’s first. See you all later." He pulls Jean by the wrist, and drags him through the living room where the rest of the family is occupied deep cleaning the house. Lilly hands them a list as they go by. "You're fitting right in," Jeremy says when they're in the blissful silence of the garage, standing between two hybrids. "Telling them about the dial up thing."

"But you _are_ like a dial up connection." Jean kisses his neck, pressing Jeremy up against one of the cars. "So slow to start in the morning." Jeremy melts against him, his fingers finding purchase in the folds of Jean's shirt. "...Unless we wake up on a Sunday and decide it's time for not so slow lovemaking," Jean purrs in Jeremy’s ear.

"Stop. You are not meeting my grandmas with a boner," Jeremy chides him and kisses his boyfriend deeply and then steps away. 

"Remember to buy a big sleeping bag for us," Jean says finally, stepping through the garage and dodging a running kid as Jeremy hops in his father’s car. Arn takes over, telling the younger Knox to stay put as the car leaves the garage. He gets into the rental car and follows Jeremy around, the AC cranked as high as it can, and the local radio station playing some ska. Eventually they end up in front of a beautiful gated mansion, and from beyond the gates he can see many elderly people strolling around, talking to the caregivers, waving at the cars. He parks the rental right by Jeremy and walks inside, their hands joined loosely. 

"Hello, we're here to pick Ruth and Celeste Knox," Jeremy smiles at the lady on the front desk and she positively swoons. Who wouldn't with Jeremy's brilliant smile?

It takes a few minutes until two very similar ladies arrive-- one of them has a long white hair, liver spots and freckles running wild on her hands and face; the second has her curls cut close to her head, manicured fingers and a heavy bag that Jean lifts from her hands with a smile. "Nana Ruth," - Jeremy points to the long haired one, and Jean kisses her blushing cheek - "and Nana Celeste." Jean kisses her cheek too, offering his arms to both ladies. "Nanas, this is my boyfriend, Jean Moreau."

" _French?_ " Nana Ruth asks in perfect French, her voice scratchy like she’s smoked too many cigarettes during her long life.

" _Marseille, madame. Authentic French._ " Jean answers cheekily and both old ladies smile approvingly. 

" _Bless you, Jere, gay and international, I taught you well,_ " Nana Ruth says, squeezing Jean's arm. Jeremy is giving them a confused smile; French was never his forte. 

"I hope that was a compliment!" Jeremy smiles, leading the way to Jean's car and helping his nanas. "Bring them back around lunchtime? Mom will be mad if you don't eat with us."

Jean nods, driving away with the nicest old ladies he's ever met. While Nana Ruth fiddles with the radio until there's a station playing foreign music, Nana Celeste pulls out a set of knitting needles and goes back to her work. " _Any place you would like to go?_ " he says, relishing in the use of his native tongue. Damn he misses speaking French. Without Kevin around, the language feels almost rusty as it passes through his lips. 

" _Honestly I'd love to go and get smashed at Lillypad,_ " Nana Ruth says and he can see her sister nodding in the rear view mirror. " _However,_ apparently _we can't drink -fucking old age - so take us to Gino's._ " He is reaching out to fiddle with the GPS when Ruth bats his hand away and sets the coordinates. " _I wish Jeremy was coming with us; where is the boy going?_ "

" _He’s buying a sleeping bag and a bunch of things for Christine_."

 _"Poor kid,_ " Celeste chirps from the backseat, her voice sounding less raspy than her sister's, " _having to deal with my niece's nonsense._ "

" _Yeah, I didn't win the lottery for kids, but I blame their father. He drank too much and I think it affected his sperm._ " Ruth laughs and Celeste chuckles in the background. " _I'm sure my daughter already screamed with her sister and tried to spew some astrological mystical knowledge at you…_ "

" _She said I was a Virgo,_ " Jean stops at the red light, watching Jeremy's car turn left and he's finally breathing easier. The Knox matriarchs are way more normal than he expected. " _I don't understand but… if that makes her happy_."

Ruth laughs, then coughs into her hand, continuing in French: " _Such a nice son in law… We're all blessed with amazing significant others… first Edward, then Arnold, then Claudia and now you Jean._ " The math doesn't fit in Jean's head: Christine's husband, Lilly's husband, Mark's wife, and him. He frowns at the traffic as Ruth laughs again. " _Sarah's husband is one of those diehard Catholics, we couldn't care less for religion in this house._ "

" _Unless_ you _care for religion. Then we completely care about it_." Celeste chimes in, looking at Jean through the thick rims of her red glasses. 

" _Ah, I'm an agnostic person,_ " Jean says finally, parking by the bar and turning to face them both.. " _Shall we?_ "

Thet take a table by the window at Gino’s and order their non-alcoholic beverages. Nana Ruth goes for a Nojito and her sister orders a Pomegranate Bellini. Jean keeps it simple with some sparkling water and a slice of lime. 

It's surprisingly pleasant. Nana Ruth is a force of nature. She might be _old_ but she knows her way around a phone and makes sure to show Jean the family pictures she has saved. Nana Celeste is silent, save for the clicking of her needles as she knits and joins the conversation from time to time. Speaking in French feels like a balm: as if he's found his family in this hot nook of Florida. He barely feels the time passing as they chat; Celeste lifts the sweater she’s knitting from time to time and mumbles under her breath, and Ruth keeps on talking like they're old friends. 

" _How did you manage to evade a family reunion for six years?_ " Nana Celeste asks suddenly, her needles never stopping as she talks, and she makes it look effortless. 

" _I'm good at finding excuses. Our friend Laila also wanted to get away from her wife's family, which made it easier_ " Jean says between sips of water. " _I wish Jeremy had told me about you two, though._ "

" _You don't have to flatter us,_ " Nana Ruth says, signaling for another of her mocktails. " _We're old, Jean, we can handle the truth._ "

He laughs, swirling his glass. The heat is getting a bit too much now; not even the fans ruffling their hair seems to be effective at cooling the air the closer they get to midday. " _It's true. Honestly,_ ” he says. “ _I heard Christine talking a few times and… it's a bit frightening how fast she can talk. And how much she can talk. I mean…_ " Jean sighs, popping open the first buttons of his shirt, causing Nana Ruth to whistle and Nana Celeste to roll her eyes. " _In some way, Jeremy is just like her sometimes, but at least he has a filter._ "

Ruth nods, pulling a tiny mirror from her purse to fix her blood red lipstick. " _Oh, preach, Jean. Christine is a bit intimidating with how assertive she is. She's always been like that; ever since she was a kid she’s been the dominant one. Sarah never stood a chance._ " She smacks her lips, then curls them around the disposable paper straw. " _She's lucky she married a man that can balance her. Jeremy is also lucky for having his father as an inspiration… and Diane._ "

" _The boy would be a mess without her,_ " Celeste agrees, fixing her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. " _Bless that woman._ "

" _Jeremy speaks highly of her._ "

Celeste puts down her needles, a tiny smile pulling her wrinkled lips up. " _She was a goner for him. She loved all of them but Jeremy was her baby. I guess she could smell the gay in him,_ " she jokes, finishing the Bellini in front of her before returning to herknitting. " _I think that what my sister truly wants to ask is what kind of man_ you _are_. "

Jean drums his fingers against his glass, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the pair of eyes staring at him so hard he can feel holes forming in his shirt. " _Devoted,_ " he answers simply. And that's the truth of him. He'd been forced to be devoted to Riko and the Ravens for years - and even to this day he is the keeper of many secrets - but to Jeremy this devotion is given freely. Because Jeremy is Jeremy:sunshine, gentle hands and loving smiles.

" _That’s a good answer,_ " Nana Ruth says, smiling at him. Their conversation is interrupted when Jean's phone vibrates on the table and Jeremy's smile lights up the screen. 

"Yes?"

"Are you eloping with my grandmas or did you try to run and end up with a bullet in the leg?" Jeremy asks, and there's no noise in the background.

"We're just having a good time. It's good to speak French again," Jean answers, drumming his fingers on the table. "Should we head back?"

"Please. I love my mother but the talk of the day has been _the union of our souls_." Jeremy sighs loudly on the other end and Jean feels for him. "Plus they’re wondering if Nana Celeste murdered you with the knitting needles."

"Quite fatalistic for a pacifist family, hm?" Jean mocks and he hears Jeremy groan in response. "Fine, we’ll leave now. Where are you at the moment?"

"Serenity Place. Come back soon, I love you."

"I love you too." Jean hangs up and both old ladies are smiling at him. " _It appears we've been summoned._ "

They both laugh, collecting their purses and doing a joint maneuver that results in the check going to Celeste's hand. 

" _Devoted seems just about right,_ " Nana Ruth says, using Jean's arm to help her get up at the same time as her sister. " _Solid muscle too. We approve Jean._ "

" _I'm honored. And the solid muscle comes from training. Exy needs muscles, especially my position_."

" _Defenseman, right?" Jean nods, surprised they know about exy. "I remember Jeremy's first games, I was always nervous about those big guys coming at him… Jeremy was just a sack of bones,_ " Celeste says as she gets comfortable in the backseat. He rounds the car slowly, depositing Ruth in the passenger seat and then takes the wheel as Ruth puts in the coordinates to the Knox's house.

" _What do you mean, a sack of bones?_ "

" _Oh, I'll have Christine dragg the albums out later this week. Jeremy was a meek thing in high school: pimples, braces, total skinny boy. He got better when he joined the Trojans,_ " Ruth says, picking up her phone and browsing through the impressive amount of pictures she has. " _Give me your number, Jean, I would love to keep talking to you._ "

Jean recites his number dutifully, enjoying the way his name sounds from Nana Ruth's lips. " _The pleasure would be mine. It's been a while since I talked so much in French... And a couple of days since someone other than Jeremy got my name right._ "

Nana Celeste blows a raspberry from the backseat, finally content with the sweater she was knitting. " _My late husband paid for private tutor for Christine and Sarah, but they decided they liked Spanish better_."

They keep bantering all the way to the house. Celeste is delightful once she's not one hundred percent focused on the quick moves of her needles and the three of them delve into a conversation about the museums in Seattle. Jean assures them that once the amazing Seattle spring kicks in, they're invited to spend a week with them. 

He stops in front of the house, and the midday heat seems to have forced the kids to retreat; Arn is relaxed, looking at his phone. He drops everything he's doing to run and help Jean with his great-grandmother's bags. Celeste orders him to find Jeremy, which sounds like another excuse for Jean to evade Christine's tornado-like approach. He mentally thanks them and goes around to the back of the house where he finds Jeremy's tanned leg hanging from out of the hammock, his hand rubbing the ear of the dog by his side. 

"Still in need of serenity?" Jean asks and Jeremy smiles, motioning for Jean to join him in the hammock. "Will that hold?"

"Sure," Jeremy drawls, his eyes blinking lazily. Jean carefully gets in the hammock, his body molding itself automatically around Jeremy's strong form.

"Sorry for the hickey," he mutters, kissing Jeremy's neck.

"Hm, that’s nothing compared to the _sounds of our souls finding each other_. Lilly woke up to pee and woke Joanne up, who said we were a bit too loud." Jeremy has the decency to blush, while Jean runs his hands softly over his back, digging into the tension points. "Then dad said there was nothing wrong with the sounds because that's how you vocalize pleasure and started to psychoanalyze what Lilly and Joanne told him."

"And your mom?"

"Said our sexual compatibility shouldn't have been possible on the basis that you're a true Virgo and I'm a chaotic Aries."

"And you?"

Jeremy groans, hiding his face on Jean's neck. "I just blushed; this is the first time they’ve caught me… Well it's the first time I’ve had sex in my room when my parents were home." 

"We _were_ very loud, Jeremy." 

"Then Mom started asking if you were systematic in bed, and that's when I gave up and came to the serenity hammock. Which might have made it worse for us," Jeremy groans again, kicking up the hammock so they're swaying softly. "I wish my family was less invasive."

"Your grandmas were nice," Jean hums, reaching up to scratch his nails against Jeremy's nape, right when the honey blond hairs start to curl. "Nana Celeste is a bit quiet. Nana Ruth is the life of the party."

"I wish I could have been there. Sounds funnier than being with the SSI Unity."

"SSI?" 

"Sex Scene Investigation. Not even _Arn_ helped me, and I used to be his favorite… but, judging by what Lilly says, I think he has a crush on you."

Jean’s hum is noncommittal, he's far too busy trying to calm down his blushing boyfriend. "Does he now?"

"Yeah, she says he's smitten and can't wait to play with you… I think it's more of a hero worship thing." Jeremy's blush is abating and Jean can feel his muscles unlocking, eyes drooping as he relaxes. "Dunno how to feel about my first nephew having a crush on my boyfriend. I changed his diapers, Jean."

"Hmm, and kids grow up, have senseless crushes… Didn't you have one when you were his age?"

"Ricky Martin," Jeremy says, not one ounce of shame coloring his voice. "Kevin from Backstreet boys was a great influence, tall, dark hair, blue eyes…"

"So you're saying you're dating me to fulfill your teenage dream of dating Kevin from Backstreet boys, whoever that is?" Jean asks with a chuckle and Jeremy absolutely _groans_ , biting his neck in retaliation. 

"Stop psychoanalyzing me, Jean Moreau. You sound like my father. And that's not sexy at all. Next thing I know you'll be wearing those bell bottom pants and listening to Dorime."

"The mice song?" 

"The mice song," Jeremy affirms, wriggling on the hammock until he's laying on Jean's chest. They stop talking for a while, and Jean remembers how addicted Jeremy had gotten to that stupid video when it came out. The lull of the hammock draws them into a moment of peace and quiet. The back lawn is less chaotic with a variety of fruit trees, a large oak with a tire hanging from it, and stray exy and football balls are strewn around.

He's about to ask if Jeremy is down for a quick game of catch when a shadow looms over them. Lilly Knox stands with her hands on her hips, her blond hair in disarray. "You know, I enjoy seeing you two relaxed, but I could really take a turn in the Serenity hammock."

"What did Mom do this time?" Jeremy asks, blinking his huge green eyes and Jean takes that moment to look at the curl of his dark eyelashes.

" _Dad_. He wants to add _ginger_ to the apple pie. Please save me, Jean you're my only hope," Lilly says, flopping on the floor. A dog wanders after her and lays it’s head on Lilly's lap. "Somehow our parents look forward to your opinion on apple, cinnamon and ginger."

"Why me?"

"There's something about French, tall, dark and handsome that captivates Mom," a new voice says, and Jean watches as Mark flops beside his sister, laying his head on her shoulder. "Nana Ruth said you have very good taste since you drank sparkling water."

They all chuckle and when Joanne ambles over to lay her head on Mark's lap, she looks absolutely exhausted. "Save us, Jean. Mom agrees with Nana - which is a first - because you said her lime pie was good. I think they just want to please you. _Please_ tell them to hold off on the ginger."

"Jean Moreau, the unlikely savior of Yule… I wonder if he can make uncle Rob not fight Mom this year on the Yule versus Christmas debate," Mark muses, running his fingers through his sister's hair and untangling the curls there. 

"What's the great debate about?"

Joanne groans. "Mom’s a pagan, Uncle Rob can't respect that and they fight every Christmas. Yule. Mom makes a whole month of non-denominational dinners, uncle Rob says we have to celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior."

"Oh, Jean can do his dark and menacing stare. It works like a charm. It's not like Minyard's _I will stab you_ stare, it's more of a… _Your existence should be terminated_ … stare,” Jeremy says, kissing his boyfriend's neck while the three other Knoxes turn around, their expectation translated in the way their eyes have grown huge. They goad Jean, pleading with their hands. "Do it Jean, please?" 

How can he refuse when his boyfriend asks him so sweetly? "Fine," he says finally, taking a deep breath and staring at his in-laws. He knows his bored stare, the one he used to give everyone back at the Ravens court. His in-laws look like they want to recoil from it, but then he's fist bumping three people at the same time. "God, what will it take for you to use that stare on uncle Rob!?" Joanne asks, clasping Jean's hand in his. "I'll give you my firstborn."

"Not interested; we have goldfish because we don't have time for regular pets," Jeremy answers for him, his hand drawing circles on Jean's chest. "Plus you asked him for two things: menacing stare and no ginger."

"Hm, how about I'll cover your back when you get too horny. For the rest of your natural life," Joanne hums, tapping her fingers against one of the dogs. "Like, New Years, Christmas, Thanksgiving… whatever holiday it is, I will cover your asses when Jeremy decides it's horny time."

Jean hums, looking down at his boyfriend. 

"I suppose that's a good offer. Valid for the three of you?" Jeremy asks, leaning up to kiss Jean as his siblings go _ew_.

"Three of us," they say in unison and Jean finally agrees on keeping whoever they want in line. 

"With that sorted, tell us about your Christmas traditions, we want you to feel like family, so tell us all about it."

He thinks about France. The shoes by the fire, the threat of Santa spanking the naughty kids, galette des rois. Those are vague memories; parts of his past he has tried to bury.

But that's not his family. The Trojans, on the other hand, are. They still gather online for their Christmas tradition and _that_ feels like tradition. Their online eggnog celebration and the ridiculous questions game.

"Hard Knox," he says finally and Jeremy snorts.

"You sure you want them to know about that?" Jeremy asks, drawing concentric circles over Jean's chest. "Have you met my family?"

"C'mon, sounds fun! Tell us what it is," Joanne goads him, draping herself over half of the hammock. It creaks dangerously, but no one seems to mind.

"It's a silly thing Jeremy came up with in his first year at USC and it became a lasting tradition. You write a question on a piece of paper and put it in a bowl, then you shake it up and everyone picks one. The questions must be vague, something like _where's the worst place you've had an itch_ and then you ask someone, who _has_ to answer. Then they ask the next question, and so on. Whoever holds the longest time without laughing gets something," Jean explains slowly, looking at Jeremy's mischievous smile as they think about the fun times that they still hold on to. This year the Trojans decided to hold their Hard Knox reunion on December 27th, and Jean predicts there will be a question about him reigning Jeremy in.

The three Knoxes look like Christmas arrived early and they are already plotting chaos. 

"That sounds amazing. But can we go inside and ask dad to hold back the ginger?" Lilly asks, poking Jeremy's calf muscles. "Wow, you're really thick little bro." 

"Exy, big sis." They move, the dogs weaving around their legs and the kitchen is in upheaval when they arrive. Edward is holding a bag of ground ginger and smiling at Jean. 

"So how do you feel about ginger with cinnamon and apple?" Edward asks and Jean shakes his head. "No?"

"Too many warm flavors. Just the cinnamon I think it's good." 

Edward nods at him and Lilly starts a tirade about how much Jean's opinion weighs just because he's French and why doesn’t her opinion count, since she's a pastry chef afterall. Jeremy excuses himself and Jean from the mayhem by saying they still need to wrap their gifts.

Their bedroom is a silent haven and Jean flops on the bed once again. "None of that mister, I know you're better than me at gift wrapping."

"Only if you do the bows," Jean replies, watching Jeremy shake his ass while unloading the ungodly amount of gift he's bought. "You got wrapping paper?"

"Heaps. Found it in the store, look," Jeremy lifts up a package of paper with space cats on it, floating among nebulas. "I thought space was a good theme for this year. Also found cute shoes for Laila and a snow globe with a flamingo for Sarah." 

Jean nods, spreading the gifts around them and wrapping them up under Jeremy's ridiculous instruction. Little by little the naked pile turns into a cute wrapped-up pile, the silvery bows glistening under the Florida sun streaming through the window. There are twin gifts singled out when Jean flops back on the bed and gestures for Jeremy to join him again. 

"What are those?"

"The Chris-nap tradition. Tonight when uncle Rob is away we'll try to steal each other's gifts. You end up with what you end up with."

Jean hums, tipping Jeremy's head up and pressing a kiss against his lips. "That's how you ended up with that thong?"

"The one with the bunny tail? Yes."

They laugh, then spend a lazy couple of hours cuddled up on the bed. After a quick lunch they spend a pleasant afternoon playing board games with the adults of the family. The younger kids are napping and Arn keeps making moon eyes at Jean. Oops. It’s a crush. Jeremy elbows him and raises his eyebrow. 

The night crawls in, and it's a battle to see who will shower first; Jean watches as Lilly bites her lip and try not to make any sexual innuendos. Dinner is served under the heat lamps, and though they’re dressed in their best clothes, most of the family, including Jean, is barefooted, laughing and joking around the table.

Only Uncle Rob and Aunt Sarah are have their heads bowed, talking over the family banter with their prayers. Jean observes the downward turn of Nana Ruth's mouth and Christine frowns slightly. 

“May the Lord forgive the sinners,” Rob says and Jean wants to laugh, yeah his Lord doesn't forgive sinners or saints. He likes his paycheck in time and obedience. "I'm sure he will," Rob finishes, crossing himself and looking at Jean. "Are you catholic, Jean? Or are you in with this Yule thing?"

He gives Rob his most unwavering, uninterested stare, and on the periphery of his vision he can see Lilly and Mark perking up, though the whole table is shrouded in silence. He can hear the dogs barking and Rob shifting in his chair, the unpleasant cracking sound of wood and clothes resounding through the garden. 

"I respect the beliefs of my host. If Yule makes the Knoxes happy, then I'll fully support it. What's so bad about a whole month of celebration?" He asks, drumming his fingers against the wood of the table. "Manners preceded creeds," he concludes, then turns to Christine and smiles brightly. "Happy Yule."

His mother in law is practically vibrating, and the smile breaking her face is as blinding as Jeremy's.

"May the Lord have mercy on your sinner soul."

"Amen. If you don't like Christine’s beliefs, I'm sure you can go home and enjoy Christmas with the rest of your family, but alas, here you are." Jeremy squeezes his thigh under the table, and Joanne reaches across the table to give him a fistbumps.

"Behave as a good Christian or leave." Edward says, taking a sip from his drink.

Rob looks like a fish, opening and closing his mouth while Nana Celeste laughs, dishing up a large portion of mashed potatoes.

" _Bless you dear, where have you been in the past six years?_ " she asks, her jewelry shining under the heat lamps.

" _Hiding away from family gatherings_."

Part of the table is shrouded in anger, black stares that Jean learned how to dodge years ago, and the other half is nothing but… Family. He relaxes further with every joke, kisses the small kids good night, and during Chris-nap even manages to snag a starry night scarf for himself. Jeremy isn't so lucky, ending up with a squeaky reindeer, but he looks happy with it and Jean can already see that decorating their home in Seattle.

The mood improves once Rob and Sarah excuse themselves to watch the mass and chaos finally reigns free. Joanne walks out with an old fishbowl, filled with scraps of paper... 

_Hard Knox_.

The questions as predicted, are ridiculous, and coupled with the consumption of so much alcohol, things get even more chaotic.

Jean has to hold himself back when Nana Celeste unfolds her piece of paper and her eyes zero in on Jeremy. "From the terrible handwriting, this was written by my lovely Tiger Lilly Knox," she says, and Lilly just nods. "So I will seek clarification before I ask." Lilly moves around the table, her phone lit up and directed towards Nana Celeste with what Jean realises retrospectively must be a picture, because Celeste just _loses it_ , and she laughs so hard that her glasses slip from her nose. "Oh well, fine. Okay Jeremy, here's your hard knock: do you have a banana/hamster relationship? If you need clarification for this visual joke,” she says as an aside, “please ask Tiger."

Jean feels the wine coming out of his nose as he chortles and Jeremy is giggling by his side, too many margaritas in his system. 

"Yes, Jean is the banana, I'm the hamster." 

Lilly's phone is passed around for those who don't get it and soon the whole family is laughing. 

His question comes a few rounds after, by a red faced Edward Knox. "What’s the most embarrassing thing that has happened while working out?"

Jeremy snorts. "That's a good one."

"I farted when I squatted once and Alvarez was behind me. Until today we count our reps by doing fart noises," Jean recounts, and the table goes wild. He still remembers the mortification and the laughter afterwards, Alvarez sweaty and flushed laughing and poking him. 

It's the same warm feeling he has now, spreading from the laughter on his lips to the tip of his fingers and making him soft- this insane new age family who just spent the morning talking about his sex life, who will forever refer to him as the banana to Jeremy's hamster, who he spent so much time evading just to realise there was nothing to fear, is giving him somewhere to _belong_.

Jeremy looks at him with hazy eyes, and he is fuzzy around the corners, his hair looking more like a halo. "Wanna stay until new year's?" he asks, tucking himself under Jean's arms.

Jean might regret it in the morning, but tonight he smiles broadly at his boyfriend and says "Why not?"

**Author's Note:**

> im right [here](https://twitter.com/dogintheboiler).
> 
> If you didn't get the hamster banana, im right [here it is](https://imgur.com/r/aww/Gv7zPOB)


End file.
